Games of the Heart
Page 86

“Yeah,” I replied. “The kitchen is not part of the sex zone at Mike Haines’s house. The sex zone includes your bed, the floor beside your bed that one time we rolled off and the shower. Couch, kitchen, stairs, etc. are out of the zone.”
He stared at me, his eyes still dancing and then his body started shaking then he burst out laughing.
Now I was more confused.
“What?” I asked through his hilarity.
Still chuckling he looked down at the bread he was spreading mayo on, muttering, “Sex zone. Fuck me.”
“What?” I asked again, louder this time.
“Sweetheart, I don’t have a sex zone. I have kids,” he explained to the bread.
“Right, I know. Which means there are sex boundaries.”
He started shaking his head and set the mayo aside, mumbling, “Sex boundaries.”
He thought something was funny, he wasn’t exactly sharing and thus I was getting peeved.
“Mike,” I cut his name sharp, “you wanna let me in on the joke?”
He clearly did and he also clearly wanted to let me on some other information too. I knew this when he dropped the knife, moved to me, jerked my legs open at my knees, stepped right in then with a hand at my lower back he yanked me so the outer regions of “Little Dusty” were pressed tight to his abs and the rest of me was pressed tight to him.
And thus the stringent boundaries of sex zone were obliterated.
“I know where my kids are right now,” he told me when he caught my surprised eyes. “I know they like where they are so I know they’re gonna stay where they are. When they’re at their Mom’s, except for their rooms, nothin’ is off-limits. But I’ve been a Dad long enough to know shit can happen and it does. Kids get sick. They get injured. My business, I could be anywhere. Audrey works in Indy. So something happens to my kids at school and time is of the essence, my next door neighbor gets first call from the school and she goes to get them and once they’re sorted, she calls me. I’m with you, my focus is you. I don’t wanna learn that that focus is so intense, one of my kids comes home, I’m f**kin’ you on the couch or eatin’ you on the kitchen table, their return doesn’t penetrate that until they see their Dad penetrating that. That would not be good for anybody. Upstairs, in my bed, behind closed doors, I’ll have warning and you’ll have an escape hatch. So there is no sex zone. That’s just bein’ smart and lookin’ out for you, my kids and me.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
“Oh,” Mike whispered back through a grin.
“But, the first weekend I was here, we didn’t explore.”
“The first weekend you were here was the first time I had you in my bed which was something I was lookin’ forward to a lot when I put your ass on a plane. Then I looked forward to it a lot more when I laid in that bed listenin’ to you get off, sometimes doin’ it while I was jackin’ off. So, when I finally got you there, I was enjoyin’ it. Next weekend, we’ll explore.”
That sounded nice.
So nice, against my will, my eyes drifted to the kitchen table.
Mike caught it and burst out laughing. This time it was better though since he did it with his arms locked tight around me, his face shoved in my neck and me in on the joke.
Yes. Much, much better.
I held him until he’d burned out his amusement and I let him go when he touched his smiling mouth to mine, let me go and stepped away.
He went back to his sandwiches. I decided again to change the subject so I wasn’t tempted to jump him.
“That’s all good to know but we still have more to discuss.”
He glanced at me and invited, “Shoot.”
“Actually, I was thinking you should shoot since something has been on your mind and it’s been on it since that scene with Debbie.”
I didn’t have his eyes but I saw his body get slightly tense even though he continued making sandwiches.
He also didn’t speak.
I didn’t think that was good.
“Mike?” I prompted and he sighed.
Then he gave me his eyes. “Bernie McGrath?” he asked weirdly and I felt my brows draw together.
“Sorry?”
“That guy who was with Debbie. The developer. Bernie McGrath.”
At the reminder, my body got tense, my memory opened up and I remembered that name being said.
“Yeah?” I asked.
Mike looked back down to the sandwiches. “Livin’ away for a while, comin’ back, probably it’s crystal that around The ‘Burg as well as throughout the county there’s been massive change. Thirty years the county went from mostly rural to mostly one vast suburban jungle attached to Indy.”
“Right,” I said when he stopped talking.
Mike flipped the top piece of bread on the sandwiches and looked at me. “Lots of developers. Lots of work done. But probably the primary developer is McGrath.”
“Okay,” I replied. “So?”
“So, a number of farms have fallen into McGrath’s hands.”
I was again confused. To build you needed land. And rural in Indiana was almost exclusively, at one point, farmland.
“Right,” I muttered then repeated, “So?”
“So, I don’t know. What I do know is that the fact I don’t know, I don’t like. Cops, we know shit. That’s our job. We pay attention. Or we know people who pay attention. Shit we don’t know or can’t find someone who does, we don’t like. No one knows shit about this guy. They just know he gets property no one else seems to be able to lay their hands on and develops it.”
I still didn’t understand.
“So…what? You’re thinking he’ll do what he has to do to back Debbie to get her quarter?”
Mike turned fully to me and rested a hip against the counter. “No,” he said quietly, carefully and the way he did, I braced. “I think Colt was right. I thought the same as he did before he said it. And the boys all agree. Debbie opened up the door, McGrath stepped through and he doesn’t want her quarter, he wants the Holliday Farm.”
“He can want it all he wants, babe. He’s not gonna get it,” I reminded him of something he had to know and his eyes went funny, guarded and alert.
I didn’t like that look.
“Mike,” I said softly, “I think you’re scaring me.”
“Lots of farms have fallen to Bernie McGrath, Dusty and I use that language purposefully.”